


Ice to Meet You

by Oh_Contrary



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actor Lance (Voltron), Christmas Movies, Coffee Shops, Eggnog, Hospital Setting, M/M, Making Out, Manipulative Relationship, Medical Situations, Meet-Cute, Model Lance (Voltron), Sorry Not Sorry, bby's trying to get by, he deserves better, hospital inaccuracies, i just can't be the one to give it to him, idk how nursing works, sorry i only know how to write lotor as a villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Contrary/pseuds/Oh_Contrary
Summary: “He was—” Keith stopped, looking to the ceiling as he tried to find the words to describe the beautiful and charming man from before. He undid his pants, pushing them down his legs and shaking his head.“He was what?” Shiro said encouragingly. Keith balled up his jeans, shoving them in the locker and grabbing his scrubs.“He was magnificent, Shiro. I've never met someone like that. I've never been so drawn to someone like— he literally fell into my life and I'm just never going to get him.”Or:A holiday romance begins to unfold.





	1. Ice to Meet You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkspottedandbrokenhearted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspottedandbrokenhearted/gifts).



> Happy Holidays lovelies!!
> 
> This was a gift for the ever lovely [jenners1207.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenners1207/pseuds/jenners1207) from our discord server's secret Santa! It was such a joy to get you as my giftee, as i already love writing things for you. Merry Christmas my darling.
> 
> For the rest of you, welcome to some holiday drama. Hallmark movies got nothing on me. 
> 
> As always, let me know if there are any content/trigger warnings i should add.
> 
> I hope y'all love it!
> 
> A happy Kwanzaa to anyone else celebrating!
> 
> be-snows (get it?)  
> ~Tay

In Keith’s defense, he hadn’t planned on this being an exceptional Tuesday. He was wearing his regular jeans, beneath his regular coat, while making his regular coffee run. In retrospect, he was wearing different shoes— having brought his snowboots to work (and for good reason considering the sleet they got midday)— and it was only said boots that kept him upright as a young man went careening into him while leaving his coffee run.

Keith caught him with one arm, leaning back into the wall to support both their weight as the man in his arms fell directly into his chest, one arm wrapping around Keith’s waist and a mittened hands fisting in his coat above his heart to try and save him from the icy sidewalk.

“I’m so sorry—”

“Are you ok?” Keith asked, gripping the other man more securely, hand pressed between is shoulder blades.

“I should be asking you that!” He said, testing his weight on his feet and wobbling. Keith pulled him close, letting him use his body for support. He slowly righted himself, bringing them face to face.They froze, Keith blushing as he found himself looking directly into this stranger’s deep blue eyes.

They undoubtedly lingered for too long, gazing at each other as the cold Tuesday swirled around them, Keith’s hand sliding down and flexing nervously against the waist of this person he found himself inexplicably drawn to. The man in his arms, flushed from the cold and breathless from the fall, seemed similarly entranced, full lips falling open and blue eyes fluttering open and closed. Keith couldn’t help a smile. He felt the sudden urge to close the distance between them— it wouldn’t be hard— and kiss him.

Finally, if not mercifully, the other man laughed, a high nervous sound (that honestly did nothing to quell Keith’s sudden desire) that spurred one of Keith’s own.

“Sorry,” they both said again, causing another laugh. Keith helped him steady himself, situating him on his feet right as a barista came out.

“I am so sorry,” she said, breathlessly, taking the strangers hand and helping him inside. Keith followed, stepping out of the wind for a moment and listening to the barista rant about how Rolo was supposed to salt before the sleet started and how she was sorry and would replace anything that had spilled—

But Keith insisted he was fine. Looking at the drinks in his carrier, none seemed hurt too badly in the tumble. He held the carrier to his chest, turning to the man he'd caught.

“Are you alright?” He asked again, hand landing on the small of his back as he leaned in to hear him in the crowded cafe. The man startled, eyes going wide as he turned his head to Keith. Again, they were too close. The simple turn of head nearly put them nose to nose yet the distance was only comfortable.

“I'm fine, thanks to you,” he said easily, a smile gracing his face. “I see you have coffee, but can I buy my savior a croissant? Or are you more of a cookie guy?”

Keith smiled. “I'm completely weak for this place's blondies, but I've actually got to run.” He raised the full caddy of drinks. “They’re waiting for me at work.”

“Are you usually the coffee runner?” the young man asked, eyes full of mischief. Keith huffed.

“The opposite. I get the longest breaks so they all appeal to my good side.”

“You must be a good friend.”

“I certainly try at it,” Keith said, which was true. He was close with his co-workers and proud of that fact. Unfortunately, it was those same coworkers who seemed to be working against him. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and sighed. He reluctantly removed his hand from its place on the blue-eyed man's back to grab his phone. He was two minutes late coming back— which never happened— and Shiro had texted him a string of question marks and a clock emoji.

“That them?” He asked. Keith nodded looking back up.

“I'm late coming back,” he replied, yet he made no move to leave. He looked at those clear blue eyes and smiled. The stranger’s smile quirked as if withholding a laugh. He looked Keith over, eyes tracing over his shoulders and down to his waist. The action was obvious with how close they were and Keith could only smirk when their eyes met again and the stranger flushed. They looked away quickly, revealing to Keith that the blush crawled over his ears and the back of his neck.

“I'm sorry,” he said hastily, hands finding and gripping the strap of his satchel. “I'm not usually like this,” he finished, turning back to Keith, eyes still blown and lips still parted. Keith again had the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“Could I get your number?” he blurted out, blushing himself at the forward question. Nevertheless, he stood by it, finishing with “in case we want to repeat this ‘un-usual’ moment.”

The stranger laughed, a bright, lilting sound and leaned into Keith. He started to nod, before he froze, stopping himself.

“No,” he blurted, putting a hand to his head and taking a step back. “No,” he repeated more gently. “Sorry, I— I don't know what's wrong with me today.” He looked up at Keith before looking away towards the counter. “I… I have a boyfriend. And he- he really wouldn't like that. I'm so sorry—”

“It's okay,” Keith said, surprising even himself. He reached out to comfort the stranger, remembered himself, and somehow managed to stop himself. “I hope you two are happy together.”

The young man glanced at him, and gave him a nod and a small smile. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I hope you have a good day at work.”

Keith smiled back at him, nodded and offered him a good day too, before escaping out into the brisk winter day.

He made it back to the hospital late, and when he made it to the break room, Shiro and Matt had already started going over orders for their next set of rounds.

“Sorry I'm late,” Keith said brusquely, setting the caddy of drinks down on the table and crossing through the room to his locker. He started to unwrap his scarf and take off his jacket, shoving them quickly into his locker and unlacing his boots.

“Geez, what happened to you?” Shiro asked, peeking in on Keith as he started to change. Keith sighed, pausing with his hands on his belt. “Ok, you’re sighing. Something’s gotta be up.” Shiro stepped into the room, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms.

“I met somebody,” he said morosely, Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“And what, they told you their dog died? Why so sad?”

“He was—” Keith stopped, looking to the ceiling as he tried to find the words to describe the beautiful and charming man from before. He undid his pants, pushing them down his legs and shaking his head.

“He was what?” Shiro said encouragingly. Keith balled up his jeans, shoving them in the locker and grabbing his scrubs.

“He was _magnificent_ , Shiro. I've never met someone like that. I've never been so _drawn_ to someone like— he literally fell into my life and I'm just never going to get him.”

Shiro was stunned silent. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out what to ask.

“Ok, start over,” he said finally, stepping further into the room. “This guy fell and—”

“He slipped on some ice and I caught him. And like— I've never had someone feel so right in my arms. An when he looked at me it- it was just right, Shiro. I can't explain it,” Keith said, pulling on his pants and pulling the drawstrings tight.

“Jesus, Keith. You're really gone on him.” Keith nodded sadly.

“Doesn't matter though. I asked for his number and he said he had a boyfriend. Who knows if I'll ever see him again.” Shiro made a pitying sound.

“That's rough, buddy,” he said, patting Keith's shoulder. Keith shrugged.

“I guess it's what I get. Makes sense with my luck.”

“Don't say that,” Shiro scolded. Keith said nothing and and pulled off his shirt. He heard Shiro gasp. He looked over at him, only to find him gaping at his chest.

“What?” Keith said, looking down at where Shiro's eyes were transfixed.

There on the left side of his chest, lingering in the space above his heart, was a mark. It was in the shape of a fist, fingers curled down as if gripping his jacket.

“Keith,” Shiro breathed. Keith said nothing, staring transfixed at his chest. “Keith, that's—”

Keith dropped the scrub shirt he was holding and took off towards the door.

“Keith, shoes!” Shiro yelled, picking up the snow boots and chucking them at Keith. He turned again towards the door. “Jacket!”

“Ugh, Shiro!” He snapped. But Shiro ignored him, snatching it and his scarf out of the open locker and throwing them at the other boy. Keith caught them with a quick nod, barely breaking stride as he shrugged into the jacket and haphazardly wrapped the scarf around his neck.

He ran down the icy sidewalk, covering the blocks between the hospital and the coffeehouse in moments. He burst in, panting as he frantically searched the store for that rich brown hair or those blue eyes.

But he saw nothing. He ran outside, looking at strangers on the sidewalk and running from one end of the block to the next but to no avail. He went back inside, walking up to the girl at the counter, interrupting her as she called a name for someone's drink.

“Excuse me, that man I was with earlier, do you know who he was?” He asked breathlessly. She gave him a look, raising one eyebrow as she took in his disheveled appearance.

“The guy you were flirting with?”

“Yes,” Keith said, nodding frantically. “Does he come here a lot?”

“No, he's not one of my regulars, sorry.”

“Do you know his name? Even just his name. I—”

“Sir, I don't know if I—”

“Please, I need to know.” He pulled his jacket open, revealing the mark on his chest. Her eyes went wide and they flicked between the mark and his face. She opened her mouth and all that came out was a sad sigh.

“I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice sincere. “But I really don't know anything about him, and even if I did, I could lose my job for telling you. I wish I could help, I really do.”

Keith nodded sadly, pulling his jacket closed again.

“Thank you—” he looked at her name tag, “ — Romelle. I understand.”

“I really wish I could help,” she repeated. “I mean, how romantic would that be?” Keith chuckled, then stopped.

“Actually, maybe you could help.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pen. He grabbed a napkin from a nearby holder and wrote out his information. “I know you can't tell me anything about him, but—” he handed over the napkin. “ — if he comes in, would you tell him about me?”

Romelle took the napkin and nodded. She stuck on a bulletin board behind the counter.

“I'll tell the rest of the staff too,” she promised.

“Thank you,” Keith said again, offering a hand. She shook it.

“No problem Keith. Good luck finding him.” Keith nodded and walked to the door. “Oh, wait!” He turned around and Romelle was waving him back. “I don't know if this is a real name or not,” she started, “but the name for his drink was Lance. Hopefully that helps?”

“Lance,” he said. It felt right on his tongue. He smiled, thanked Romelle again, and left.

He walked morosely back to the hospital, making it to the locker room where Shiro was waiting, Matt having already gone and started rounds.

“No luck?” Shiro asked, though as he looked Keith over, he already knew the answer. He sighed. “I’m sorry Keith. But don’t worry, we’ll find him, I promise.”

“His name is Lance,” Keith said.

“Lance?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, that was the name he gave the barista. She doesn’t know if it’s real but… it feels real, you know?” Shiro smiled, rising out of his seat.

“That’s the soul-bond. Some things are just gonna make sense for no reason now.”

“Is this what it was like when you met Adam?”

“Yeah. Probably more intense since we were in proximity all the time, but you’ll still get some residual things from Lance. He’ll probably get some stuff from you too. Weaker, since you two are apart, but some nonetheless.”

Keith smiled. Hopefully that meant his soulmate would sense him and look for him too.

 

* * *

 

“Babe, I’m home!” Lance called, stomping the snow from his shoes and unwinding his scarf. He hung his jacket on the coat rack and leaned down to untie his boots. He toed them off and made his way into the apartment. He found Lotor in his small office, editing photos. He came up behind him sliding his arms around Lotor's shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of his head. Lotor reached up and gently stroked Lance's wrist where it laid against his shirt. “Are those me?”

Lotor hummed an agreement.

“From the shoot in Ezor’s studio. She wants me to send them to print next week and wanted a few last edits.”

“What was wrong with the first round?” Lance asked, frowning at the new edits. They'd chosen a few new photos, some of the more risqué moments on set they'd promised wouldn't run.

“Nothing, darling. She just has very particular buyers, used to seeing certain things.”

“But we said we wouldn't run those two. Don’t you think they’re a bit… well, scandalous?” Lance looked back at the photos. He was wearing a combination of Ezor’s designs for both men and women— women’s dark blue short shorts and men’s a floral blazer. He was looking back and down at the camera, his legs stretching up for miles.

“What do you mean? You look sexy, certainly, but it’s a far cry from scandal.”

Lance pointed to another photo, where he was bent halfway over a stool, leaning against another model. “Lotor, my ass is halfway out in this!”

“That’s part of the appeal, love,” he said, squeezing Lance’s wrist one last time before returning it to the keyboard.

“I don’t know if I want these to run.”

At that, Lotor froze. He turned his chair around, looking up at Lance. He reached out, taking his hips and pulling him between his legs. Lance’s hands fell to his shoulders. Lotor looked up at him fondly.

“Darling,” he said sweetly. “Have I ever made you look bad? In any of the spreads we’ve done or photos I’ve taken of you, have you ever looked anything less than stellar?” Lance averted his eyes, looking into the corner of the room. Lotor squeezed his hips, hooking hs fingers in Lance’s belt loops and tugging him down until he was straddling him in his chair.

Lotor took his chin between his fingers, turning Lance’s head towards him and brushing his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Come now, love. Don’t pout.”

“Not pouting,” Lance grumbled, even though he kept his eyes averted.

“Come on,” Lotor cajoled, a smile entering his voice. “Where’s my Little Boy Blue?” Lance rolled his eyes at the old nickname.

“Lotor—”

“Come on, Angeleyes, let me see them.” Lance blushed, but let Lotor pull him close to pepper kisses along his heated cheeks. He giggled, rolling his eyes and landing them on his boyfriend. Lotor smiled up at him, pulling him into a sweet kiss before leaning back.

He looked up at Lance seriously. “What did I promise when I moved you out here?”

“To take care of me,” Lance sighed.

“To take care of you,” he repeated, smoothing a hand up and down Lance’s back before letting it fall to the curve of his hips. “I’m here to look after you. You’re my muse, Lance. My heart and my eyes. I’ve never run a bad photo of you and I’m not going to start now.”

Lance sighed, leaning against Lotor’s shoulder. “I’m just nervous. I’ve only had the position at the children’s theater a few months. I don't want to jeopardize it by showing my ass in a magazine spread.”

“Darling, the photo is far from scandalous, I’ve told you.”

“But what if one of our clients sees it and recognizes me? We have partnerships with schools and the hospital. I can’t be a role model and a regular one.”

“And why not?”

“I- I just can’t. I don’t want to mess this up. I need this job.”

“Lance, I have no issue with supporting you,” Lotor said earnestly. Lance shook his head and tried to slide off of his lap, but Lotor held firm.

“I’m freeloading.”

Lotor looked puzzled. “Lance, dear, we work together. You get paid—”

“By _you_ , Lotor.”

“And by designers. By the magazines who run your pictures.”

“Your pictures, they just happen to be of me.”

“Fine. _Our_ pictures. That pay for _our_ apartment and _our_ food.”

“Lotor, I flew out here with nothing and you paid my way.”

“No, you flew out here with _me_ , and I took care of you, like any partner would for the person they love. I don't see what the issue is, Lance. Where is this even coming from? Did something happen today at work?”

“No, work was fine,” he grumbled.

“That wasn't all that convincing. Was it the meeting at the hospital?”

“No, that was fine. I just- I slipped afterwards while trying to pick up coffee before rehearsal. Just slipped on some ice and fell into a _total_ stranger—”

“Are you okay?” Lotor asked, hands brushing over him. Lance waved him off.

“I'm fine. The other guy caught me but it was just—” baffling to encounter a stranger with arms so comforting, “ — weird and embarrassing.” Even now he could feel how the other man had made him blush, hands firm against his back and eyes just so gentle. He sighed, shaking his head. “I've just been off ever since. My brain is all jumbled up and I have this weird sad feeling like I forgot or lost something, but I know I didn't. Everything else today went perfect. Hell, even this place’s coffee was perfect, but I just feel… off.”

He looked back up at Lotor, who was scrutinizing him carefully. Finally, he slotted his hands beneath Lance's thighs and held him tight as he stood. Lance's arms wrapped tight around his neck at the sudden movement.

“Lotor,” he groused, wiggling for him to put him down. Lotor's grip simply tightened, holding Lance securely as he walked back to the large bedroom and the huge bathroom. He deposited Lance on the edge of the sink and silently turned and walked to the tub. Lance rolled his eyes, knowing on instinct what was coming next and chuckling when the familiar sound of the bathtub filling hit his ears. Lotor came back out, walking to Lance on the counter. He gently uncrossed Lance's arms, kissing both hands before reaching down for the hem of his shirt.

He pulled Lance's shirt over his head, leaning down to kiss where shoulder met neck. He kissed up to nibble behind Lance's ear, tilting his head with one hand and sucking kisses back towards the nape of his neck. He gently bit Lance's neck, relishing the shaky exhale it won him. Lance's head relaxed in his grip and Lotor's eyes slid open, looking into the bathroom mirror as one hand slid down Lance's side to his hips—

And froze.

There on Lance's back, nestled between his shoulder blades, against his spine, was a handprint. His mind raced, replaying Lance's description of his day and having the sheer irony of it click into place: the fall, as cliche as any romantic comedy, but then the off day. The feeling that something was missing.

Lance had a soulmate— a rare occurrence already— and they were looking for him.

Lotor looked again at the soulmark staring back at him in the mirror. He fought not to tense, mind grinding to a halt as he realized that, for the first time in years, Lance was no longer his.

“Stop looking at it,” Lance whined, squirming on the counter. Lotor jolted, eyes going wide as he pulled back. Lance wrapped his arms across his chest, hand laying over his shoulders and fingertips brushing the tops of the familiar scars on his shoulders.

Lotor barely withheld a sigh of relief. Lance didn't seem to know about the handprint blazed between his shoulder blades. He sighed, nuzzling into the crook of Lance’s neck and kissing the tops of his scars. Lance squirmed, like always, under the attention. Lotor lingered against the silvery marks before pulling away and cupping Lance’s cheek.

“I love every part of you, Lance,” he promised. “And I always will.”

Lance sighed, leaning forwards into Lotor’s chest before pulling back and turning up his chin, silently asking for a kiss. Lotor eagerly obliged, kissing Lance with a fervor just bringing on desperation. His hands ran possessively down his bare sides, fingers dipping below his waistband to grip his hips. Lance shuddered, swaying on the counter’s edge to lean against Lotor's chest. His hands gripped his arms, holding tight as Lotor lay claim to his mouth.

When they finally separated, they were both panting. Lotor held Lance close, one hand tight against the back of his neck as the fingers of the other brushed across his cheekbones.

“You are so precious to me,” Lotor murmured, eyes dark. Lance chuckled.

“You're all sappy tonight.”

Lotor flushed. “I just want you to know what you mean to me.” Lance smiled, leaning up to give Lotor one last kiss.

“You're so good to me,” he sighed.

“And I always will be.” Lotor grabbed Lance by the hips, tugging him off the sink counter and helping him out of his pants. “Now you go take a relaxing bath, and I’ll figure out some dinner, hm?” Lance nodded, flushing cutely when Lotor patted him on the rear before leaving the room. Lance walked to the bath quickly, already breaking out in goosebumps as he was naked in the cool room and eager to sink into the steaming hot water.

Outside Lotor was pacing nervously, phone clutched nervously in his hand before finally opening it and dialing a familiar number.

“Ezor? Hi, I need some advice.”


	2. Someone's halls are getting Decked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year Loves!!
> 
> I hope we all got kissed at midnight (even if just by our dogs).
> 
> This is the angst chapter!! (It's me, you know there has to be at least one.)
> 
> Not much else to say here! as always, let me know if there are additional tags i need to add for content/trigger warning purposes!
> 
> besos!  
> ~Tay

The first week that passed, Keith was at the coffee shop every day. Well, he’d been going every day anyways for work, but now he went as often as possible. He woke up earlier to go before his shift, took the coffee run during work, and would linger there on his laptop after work. He’d gotten plenty familiar with Romelle, who’s ever-bright demeanor helped him feel that his efforts weren’t totally useless. Romelle was also a hopeless romantic, and seemed to be completely enamored with her role in this quest.

Nevertheless, weeks passed with nothing but a sad, uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t tell if it was his own disappointment and sadness or if something was also upsetting Lance, and the not knowing was almost worse than the feeling itself.

“It’s probably a combination of both of you,” Shiro said, once again explaining that Lance could be feeling Keith’s sadness and projecting it right back at him. All and all, it made this entire soulmate thing seem way more of a drag than it did in the movies. Shiro simply sighed, grabbing his clipboard off the breakroom table and giving Keith his hundredth sympathetic look of the day.

“Don’t say it,” Keith pleaded, looking away from those paternal grey eyes.

“Keith, this _will_ all work out. You’re soulmates. You’re meant to be together.”

“If that were true, more people would know their soulmates, Shiro. This isn’t rare on accident. Besides, he’s already with someone. He’s probably happy enough there that he doesn’t want to bother with some stranger he knows nothing about.”

“I don’t think there’s a person alive who wouldn’t want to at least talk with their soulmate, Keith.”

“But what if he doesn’t know? I told you, my hand was on his back. It’s possible that he doesn’t know the mark exists. Doesn’t know that _I_ exist.”

“Keith, you know that can't be true. Even if he can't see the mark, you can sense each other. He'll have to realize that.”

“But Shiro, he feels happy on the other side. When there isn't this frustration there's just ease and the smell of chocolate. It's fleeting, but it's still there. He doesn't need me.”

Shiro's eyes went wide. “You're getting smells?”

“Yeah, sometimes. They don’t make sense all the time: we go from chocolate to hairspray to sawdust in the course of an hour sometimes.  I don’t know what he could be up to.”

“Keith, this is huge,” Shiro said, stopping them as they walked around the nurse’s station. “Some couples never get smells—”

“We’re not a couple Shiro.”

“But you’re _meant_ to be. Your soulbond is trying to bring you two together. Sharing extra senses is how it gives you hints—”

“Shiro!” Keith snapped, drawing the attention of two of the other nurses. He gave an apologetic wave before turning back to his brother. “It’s been two, nearly three, weeks, and _nothing._ He hasn’t been to the coffee shop, he hasn’t put out a want ad, he hasn’t responded to ours. It’s not going to happen. We can’t _make_ Lance want me, Shiro, so just drop it.” Keith turned away before Shiro could say anything, though he could hear the other man still following him. Keith ignored him, leaning down in front of the computer and checking his next assignment.

Before he could get through it, Matt walked up, calling both of their names.

“You guys have an extra appointment with Smythe,” he said, handing Keith a clipboard.

“We’re doing rounds with him in hematology today,” Keith said, taking the clipboard and flipping through the hastily finished paperwork.

“One of his patients from the private hospital came through for an emergency appointment,” Matt said with a shrug.

“Well if it’s an emergency, he should go to the _Emergency Room_.”

Matt barely withheld a smirk. “You don’t have to tell me, but if some rich prick comes in and needs an emergency appointment with his favorite doctor, you don’t tell him no. Smythe’s in another room for the next twenty, so Keith, he wants you to go in and get the guys vitals and the rundown on whatever happened.”

Keith shrugged and nodded, situating the clipboard under his arm as he went to take the elevator. As it began to close, it was stopped by a familiar prosthetic hand. Keith couldn’t even stop the roll of his eyes.

“What Shiro?”

“Lemme see that chart again?”

“Fall, potential head injury, rolled ankle. Nothing abnormal—”

“Just hand it here,” Shiro sighed, pulling it out of Keith's hands. He flipped to the first page and pointed to the name up top. Keith gasped.

“You don't think it's—”

“It isn't a common name,” Shiro said, smiling gently. Keith gripped the clipboard tight, heart beginning to race as he suddenly realized it was happening. He'd been trying for weeks to meet his soulmate and now, without even trying, he might be walking into a room with his soulmate right there waiting for him.

“Shiro—”

“Deep breaths, Keith. He's just another patient.”

“Shiro you know that's not— Oh my god he's hurt.” Keith turned back to the chart, flipping quickly through the pages and re-reading them carefully. Shiro nearly stopped him, but the ding of the elevator came soon enough.

Keith looked out the opening doors like a deer in the headlights. Shiro rolled his eyes, took his shoulders in hand, and pushed Keith in front of him as they made their way to the nurses’ station on this floor. Keith meanwhile, was trying to focus on breathing past the butterflies in his stomach.

“Shiro, do I smell?” he asked suddenly, lifting an arm and sniffing beneath it.

“Keith, it's hour fourteen. We all smell. Now go. Room 723.” And with that, he pushed Keith off, watching as he stumbled down the hall.

Keith counted the door numbers under his breath as the butterflies in his stomach began to move double-time. He came to the door, straightened his stethoscope around his neck, and knocked before pushing it open. There in the bed was the man he’d been looking for, eyes opening slowly as he looked toward the disturbance and beside him, holding his hand—

“About time you got here,” a snide voice said. Keith’s eyes roved over the well-dressed man beside Lance and his knuckles went white on the clipboard he was carrying. “Where’s Dr. Smythe? He said he could see us here—”

“I’m Dr. Smythe’s resident, Keith Kogane,” Keith said, his best fake smile plastered on his face. “I’ve been assisting him here the past few months and he sent me to come get a read on the situation. The doctor should be around soon.” He turned his attention back to the bed, where Lance was watching him carefully, a glimmer of recognition forming somewhere in those deep blue eyes.

Keith’s smile turned more genuine, something in him softening as he looked at Lance. He stepped to the bedside, laying a hand over Lance’s wrist and squeezing gently to get his attention. Two fingers moved on instinct to check his pulse, but Keith was hardly paying attention, something in him immediately relaxing at being so close to Lance.

“Hi there Lance,” he said gently. “I’m Keith, I’m gonna be looking you over okay?” Lance only nodded and Keith was nearly saddened by it, having already managed to miss the way Lance’s voice sounded in the past few weeks. That ache was soothed by the way Lance was looking at him, a sort of wonder tinged with confusion. Keith’s brow furrowed. It was entirely possible that Lance really didn’t recognize him. He shook himself, refocusing on the task at hand.

“I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” He helped Lance upright and put on his stethoscope. He laid one hand against Lance’s back to steady him and the other boy gave a full body shiver.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said hastily, blushing faintly. Keith murmured that it was okay, stepping close and lifting his stethoscope to Lance’s chest before pausing.

“Could you untuck your shirt for me?” he asked. Lance obliged quickly, pulling his shirt and sweater out of his belt. Keith nodded his thanks before slipping his hand and the diaphragm of the stethoscope beneath Lance’s shirt and laid it against his chest. Lance jolted, gasping quietly as his eyes flicked to Keith’s face.  
“Sorry, cold hands,” Keith murmured, looking down at the blush deepening on Lance’s face.

Lance’s heart was racing and Keith felt his own attempt to match its pace. He caught himself leaning closer than strictly necessary as he guided Lance through deep breaths, but he certainly wasn’t going to correct that.

“Good,” he said absently, stepping to the side to listen from Lance’s back. He lifted the shirt slowly, mouth clicking shut on the instruction of ‘deep breaths’ as a mild discoloration came into view. He lifted the shirt higher than strictly necessary and gazed with wonder at his own handprint between Lance’s shoulder blades. It took everything he had not to touch it; not to press his palm into its outline and feel that zing of connection.

He looked out the corner of his eye at, assumedly, Lance’s boyfriend, who was watching carefully. Keith sighed, resisting the urge to clench his jaw, and carried on with the appointment.

And if he found extra reasons to touch Lance throughout, then no one else had to know.

He listened carefully as Lance and his boyfriend (mostly his boyfriend, Lotor) walked him through Lance’s fall— a debacle at a photoshoot nearby and Keith checked Lance’s head, easily finding the swollen lump in his hair and carefully checking his eyes for reaction time.

It was then, with Keith’s steadying hand against the side of his neck, the two of them leaning in close, and Lance’s eyes on his face that the realization struck:

“You’re the guy from the coffeeshop!” Lance said, smiling suddenly up at Keith. He leaned back, studying him quickly. “Lotor, this is the guy who caught me a few weeks ago!” he said, looking excitedly to his boyfriend. Keith fought not to clench his jaw and followed Lance’s gaze. Lotor was staring at them in shock, realization slowly dawning on his face and his skin going pale. Keith’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he realized that Lance was the only one out of the loop in this situation. Lotor met Keith’s eye and blanched at what must have certainly been a furious expression before turning his face back to Lance and managing a smooth smile.

“That’s wonderful, darling,” he said smoothly, rising from his chair and coming to kiss Lance on the forehead. He laid a possessive hand on the other side of Lance’s neck and turned to Keith, eyes dark. “I suppose I owe Keith my thanks.” He looked Keith dead in the eye, one eyebrow raising in question. Keith fought not to grind his teeth.

“Anything for Lance,” Keith said, meaning every word. Lotor’s eyes narrowed dangerously, though something akin to guilt or even fear seemed to flicker in the back of them. “It’s in my nature to _care_ about people. It’s why I took the job.” he turned back to Lance. “Now let’s take a look at that ankle, hm?”

This part, luckily, absorbed Keith’s attention. Lance had really done a number on his ankle when he fell and Keith suspected a sprain, though the extensive swelling could indicate something more. When Dr. Smythe finally came in, he agreed with Keith that it was likely a sprain, but sent Lance for an x-ray just in case. He left the room in a wheelchair, Lotor a solid fixture at his side. Keith watched them go, silently fuming before finally escaping down to the break room. He ignored Shiro completely, grabbing his headphones and turning off the lights in the locker room before blasting his music until he could pretend to ignore his racing mind. Soon enough, it proved useless, and he cut the music off, opening the door and running headlong into Shiro, who took one look at him and led him to the table to sit.

Keith settled into the chair silently, quietly nodding his thanks when Shiro pushed a hot cup of coffee into his hands.

“So it didn’t go well, I take it?” he asked quietly. Keith shook his head, clenching his jaw as anger welled hot and fierce in his chest, followed immediately by a deep, if not surprising melancholy.

“It’s him. I saw the mark, but it— he doesn’t know it’s there. He looked at me and even recognized me but didn’t know I was his soulmate.”

“Oh, Keith—”

“His boyfriend knew though. His boyfriend saw me, looked me in the eye, and just— just said nothing. _Glared_ at me and said nothing, even though he obviously knows the mark and what it means. And I’ve gotta go back in there. I’ve gotta look them both in the eye and- and somehow not tell Lance we belong together.”

“Why not? Why can’t you tell him?”

“Why do I have any right to ruin what they have? I may not know Lance but I- I can feel his feelings for his boyfriend through our bond and they’re real. What right do I have to ruin that for him?”

“But this guy—”

“Lotor.”

“Lotor. He’s pretending to love Lance while lying to him. A lie of omission is still a lie.”

“How do we know he’s pretending? I think he’s just afraid of losing Lance. The same way I’m afraid to be without him.”

“But he doesn’t get to make that choice for him, Keith,” Shiro said seriously. “It's wrong of him to withhold this, and we both know it. _He_ knows it.”

Keith nodded, grinding his teeth as frustration welled inside him. He stood abruptly, looking at his watch. Lance would probably still be downstairs for x-rays, meaning Lotor wasn't with him. He threw Shiro's a cursory thanks before racing to the radiology department. He found Lotor pacing the hallway. He called his name and the other man turned sharply, eyes widening before narrowing. He let Keith approach him.

“Lotor,” Keith said carefully. “You and I both know what’s going on. Lance has a right to know too.”

“And what do you know about Lance?” Lotor spat. “Whatever romance you think you’re meant for or claim you think you have—”

“Claim? Who said anything about— he isn’t a thing to possess. I’m just saying that _I’m his soulmate,_ and I think he should know. He _deserves_ to know.”

“Just because you’re a hopeless romantic, doesn’t mean he is—”

“This isn’t about being romantic, this is about his life, which, whether you like it or not, I am going to try and be a part of until Lance himself tells me otherwise.” Lotor scowled and strode towards him.

“Lance isn’t interested in being romanced; he has me. I take care of him. I _love_ him. I have for years. And in a few more years I'm going to make him a household name. You heard how he fell. He's a model. My model. My muse. Lance is the brightest thing in my life and no one, especially not some coffee-fetcher nurse is going to take him from me. He's my future; my eyes and my heart. And I'll be damned if I let you get in the way of that.”

Keith paused, looking at the anger and fear painted over Lotor’s face.

“You love him,” Keith said with a shrug. “Ok, sure. But if you _respect_ him, you’ll let him make his own choices. You’ll let him know all his options. Fate says we’re meant to be together. I mean, we’ve already found each other twice, despite your best efforts. We’ll only keep running into each other. You might as well let him know why.”

“Lance hasn’t even noticed. Your soul-bond is weak. Useless—”

“Hasn’t he been off recently?” Keith asked, thinking back to the never ending tumult he and Lance seemed to share through their bond. Lotor's eyes flashed dangerously and he grit his teeth.

“I cheer him up, it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, so that’s all the chocolate I’ve been smelling,” Keith said. Lotor blanched, face going pale. Keith stepped directly into his space, looking up at the taller man. “It doesn’t matter what you say. Until Lance rejects me himself, the soulbond will keep pulling us back to each other. And if you don’t tell him, don’t give him that chance, he might not just reject you for it, but resent you for it. I know I would.”

Lotor’s jaw worked nervously. Keith sighed, shaking his head before turning down the hall where one of the radiologists was wheeling Lance back towards them.

“Everything go alright?” Keith asked. The radiologist nodded and said that the images should be ready in half an hour before passing Lance off to him and Lotor, who was struggling to compose himself. They went in silence back to Lance’s room and Keith carefully helped him back into the bed.

“Alright,” he said gently, elevating Lance’s foot and pulling the blanket up over him. His hand moved on instinct to smooth the other boy’s hair but he stopped himself at the last second, patting his shoulder instead. He let his hand linger there as he spoke. “I’ve got to accompany Dr. Smythe to his next appointment, but my friend Shiro will be up to explain your x-rays and wrap that ankle. I’ll be back at the end with care instructions.”

He smoothed his hand down Lance’s arm squeezing his wrist reassuringly before turning to leave. Keith stepped away reluctantly, smothering a sigh as he turned towards the door—

Only to have slim fingers catch his hand. He turned and looked, finding Lance’s fingers  gripping his.It looked right. Keith couldn’t help a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, flushing. “I… I don’t know why I did that.” He slowly drew his hand out of Keith’s, but Keith squeezed his fingers gently.

“It’s okay,” he said earnestly. He lifted their joined hands and laid Lance’s back on the blankets. “I’ll be back to see you off, okay?”

“Okay” Lance whispered, letting Keith draw his hand away. Keith turned away slowly, sparing a glance towards Lotor who was watching him with troubled eyes. Keith gave a small shake of his head and left the room.

Shiro was waiting at the nurses station, already looking over Lance’s x-rays.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Lotor’s a tool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun wasn't it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a comment or visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) to watch me collect memes and mourn vine. also, consider sharing some holiday cheer and funding my fic habit via [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A1751V8Y)
> 
> Hasta luego!  
> ~Tay


	3. Someone Ho Ho Hold Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me keeping a goddamn update schedule!!!
> 
> We're almost there my darlings! second to last chapter and ooh do i love this one. Not much else to say, so let's dive in.
> 
> kissy sounds  
> ~Tay

Lance came into rehearsal on his crutches after the weekend. Everyone clamored to get to him, speaking over each other to make sure he was fine before their director, Allura, finally called for quiet.

“I’m okay,” Lance said finally, looking around at the group. “We had a mishap at a photoshoot on Friday but, as long as I take it easy this week, I’m still fine to perform for the Christmas shows, though we might have to pare down some of my choreo for the New Years one.”

Allura came forward with a nod, dispersing the rest of the cast so she could talk with him quietly about a plan. Hunk lingered at Lance’s side regardless, listening carefully and pulling Lance to lean on him. He appreciated it.

“But other than the ankle are you okay?” he asked finally, starting to walk him back to the dressing rooms.

“Of course,’ Lance said quickly. Hunk and Allura shared a look before they looked at him. He sighed. “Things have been weird. Lotor’s been in a tizzy since I hurt my ankle. I think he feels responsible because it happened at the shoot. Every time I look at him he looks so _guilty_ but I don’t know what to do, especially since he’s been so odd the past few weeks anyways.”

“Odd?” Allura asked.

“Yeah just, really nervous? But also so, so attentive. He’s always buying me gifts and fancy dinners and—” Lance flushed “—he’s been really uh, passionate.”

“And this is weird?” Hunk asked, brow furrowing. Lance shrugged.

“Yeah. I guess it always used to feel like he was really busy. Like we would do stuff together but I never used to have this much of his attention and now it’s… I don’t know. I think—” Lance looked down, biting his lip. “I think he’s gonna propose.”

“Oh, Lance that’s wonderful!” Allura said. Lance nodded, though his eyes remained downcast. “Isn’t it?” she asked after a moment.

“It is,” he said hurriedly. “I mean, we’ve been together a while and, and we fit together well.”

“There’s a ‘but’ in that sentence.”

“But… I don’t know. I still feel like I’m missing something. Which is stupid, because Lotor gives me _everything._ That’s what he’s been trying to do with all the gifts and all the fancy dinners. He knows I’m upset and has been trying his damnedest to make me happy and shouldn’t I want that? Someone who wants to make me happy?”

They came to a stop outside the door to Lance’s dressing room.

“No one but you can tell you want you want, Lance,” Hunk said.

“We can’t help you decide,” Allura added, “but we’re here for you whenever you need to talk, okay?”

“Thanks, you guys,” Lance said, blinking away tears. He’d worked here barely a few months, but already he’d made such good friends. Allura gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading back out to the rehearsal space. Hunk turned to leave but Lance called him back.

“Could you actually help me into costume?”

“Sure!” Hunk said, following Lance into the little dressing room. It was tight with both of them in there, but Hunk maneuvered carefully around Lance, taking his crutches and helping him onto his makeup stool. Lance began to undress piece by piece, shedding his scarf and jacket and handing them to Hunk, who hung them on the various hooks around the room. Lance undid his belt, and hunk helped him stand so he could pull his pants down, before helping him sit back down and easing his jeans down over his brace. He stood, throwing Lance’s pants on a hook and moving behind him to grab his costume— before he froze.

“Um, Lance? Do you have a birthmark on your back? Or a bruise or something?” Lance jolted, before hugging his arms to his chest, hands reaching over to brush fingertips over the scars on his back.

“No, just the marks from the accident. They sometimes get red when it’s col—”

“No, not... not your scars buddy,” Hunk said gently. “On your back, between and below your shoulder blades?”

“What?”

“Hold on—” Hunk grabbed his phone, snapping a photo. “Here, see? It almost looks like a—”

“A handprint.” Lance gasped. “Why— how is this a handprint?”

“Lance, this has to be a soulmark. That’s why you’ve been so weird and emotional lately.”

“I haven’t been emotional lately,” Lance huffed, before thinking back and sighing with a nod. “Ok, I guess I’ve been really tense and stuff lately.”

“I think this is why,” Hunk said, a smile forming on his face. “You said something is missing lately. This is it! You’re missing your soulmate!”

Lance looked silently down at the picture. His own back, the familiar scars over his shoulders, the few freckles he never really loses, and this new mark, the proof of an important hand splayed over his back and him somehow missing it for what had to be weeks now.

“Wait, but… but Lotor never said anything.” he whispered, each word feeling like a shard of broken glass.

Hunk deflated. “Oh, Lance—”

“Why wouldn’t he tell me? I would’ve wanted to know this! Anyone would have wanted to know this! How could he— I don’t— oh my god.” He thrust Hunk’s phone back into his hands.

“Lance, I’m sure he was just—”

“Just what? Scared? Worried? Anxious? You mean all the things I’ve been feeling for the last month?! How does he get to hide this from me? I’ve been feeling _horrible_ for the last month and he could have just told me why and instead he, he distracted me with gifts and chocolate and—” Lance froze, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I can’t do this. How— I want to go home. I can’t rehearse today— but _he’s_ in the apartment. What do I—”

“It’s okay. Take my keys and call a lyft. I’ll tell Shay you’re on the way and I’ll come get you after the rehearsal and drive you back or.. Or we’ll make a plan.”

Lance nodded tiredly, laying his head on the makeup counter and closing his eyes. His thoughts were whirling, and he barely heard Hunk leave or even his return. He helped Lance re-dress in his civvies.

“I told Allura that you weren’t feeling well and she said to just go to my place and rest— I've already called you a ride— and we’ll see you tomorrow for rehearsal.”  

Lance nodded wearily, letting Hunk bustle him out the building where a car was just pulling up. Shay met him outside their apartment building and took Lance upstairs, setting him up in their cozy living room and handing him a cup of tea.

“I'm in the kitchen working on some Christmas cookies, but just holler if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Shay,” Lance said earnestly. He pulled the blanket she gave him up to his shoulders and snuggled into the couch. There was some sweet Christmas movie on the living room tv, but he ignored it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Slowly he began to cry, sleep following soon after.

When he woke up, it was to Hunk in the door, knocking the snow off his boots. He watched silently as he hung up his coat and Shay bustled out from the kitchen, flour on her face and apron and her sleeves rolled up, revealing the edge of her soulmark. He knew that Hunk had her handprint on his wrist, the result of them brushing together during a cooking class. It was the type of story he'd always wanted for himself: simple, but perfect.

Instead, he had a soulmate he couldn't place and a boyfriend who was hiding things from him.

A sob escaped him and he pulled the blanket up to wipe his eyes. When he looked up, Hunk was kneeling by the couch.

“Not feeling any better?”

Lance shook his head. “I don't know what to do, and now I have to go home and share the apartment with Lotor and I don't even know how I feel about him. What if this isn't the only thing he hasn't told me? This is- it's important. I mean, a soulmate is important.”

“It is, and you're right.”

“And I'm not crazy for being so upset?”

“No, Lance. Lotor is someone you trust. I mean, earlier today you thought he was gonna propose. And now this? You get to be upset.”

Lance sniffled and sat up, letting Hunk slide in next to him and sling an arm around his shoulder.

Shay brought them both some cocoa, and sat with them in the warm room, yet another comforting presence as he tried to sort through his emotions. Soon, they'd talked into the night, Lance gathering the courage to text Lotor that he was going to stay at Hunk’s for the night.

“You wanna know something?” Lance asked after the three of them had spread out on the living room floor with Chinese food, another cheesy Christmas romcom about a soulmated pair showing on the tv. Lance watched as they laughed together, looking into each other's eyes.

“What?” Shay asked.

“I've always wanted a soulmate.”

  


Eventually, Lance went home. He was distant, and could see Lotor worrying, but ignored his home life entirely. Instead, he threw himself into his work. Surprisingly, it cheered him right up.

It was the week before Christmas, and the children’s theater was doing a string of volunteer shows around the city. They were in and out of schools and community centers, performing a Christmas play for kids who couldn’t help but make Lance smile. While it didn’t help him forget his issues, the season definitely got to him. He had always loved the holidays—

Which of course made coming home to a small yet beautifully decorated tree all the more difficult. Lotor was on the floor, rearranging the little tree skirt and setting a few small boxes on it. He whirled around, looking with bright eyes towards the door.

Lance nearly broke that night. Nearly gave up on the prospect of his soulmate and gave in to the easy little fantasy life Lotor was determined to build for him. When Lotor tugged him beneath the mistletoe in their bedroom, it was so easy to go into his arms for a kiss, yet there was an itch in the back of his mind that kept him from melting against the other man. There was a thorn of distrust, of wariness, and even stronger has that, the pull of his soulbond on the edge of his mind.

It gave him strength and he finally told Lotor they needed to talk. By the end, his heart was broken but his resolve was firm.

That night, he showed up to Hunk’s in tears, but lighter nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

There was no such thing as an easy day at the hospital, but Keith couldn’t help but find the days going into the holidays slightly easier for some reason. Every nurses station played holiday radio and the younger patients made paper snowflakes that hung everywhere. There were visitors in all the wards to sing carols and deliver books and, somehow, everything always felt lighter around the holidays.

It also helped that Dr. Smythe walked around in bright red and green, a ridiculous pair of jingling antlers on his head.

“Keith my boy!” he crowed, bursting into the break room. Keith looked up from where he was grabbing his jacket for his daily visit to Romelle’s coffeeshop. Coran was looking at him with a twinkle in his eye. “Why don’t you skip your coffee run and come upstairs with me for the break? There’s visitors and sweets in pediatric and you look like you could use some holiday cheer.”

“Holiday... cheer, sir?” Keith asked, brows furrowing. He’d switched to his bright red scrubs and put a jingle bell on his lanyard. He didn’t know what else should be expected.

“It’s not in how you dress, my boy. It’s simply that… every time you come back from that little coffeehouse of yours, you seem a little bit sad the rest of the day. I figure it can’t hurt to switch it up, and if it does, you can blame me. Now come along.” And with that, Coran turned on his heel, leaving Keith to catch up with him by the elevator. They stepped in, Coran selecting one of the upper floors before reaching into his star patterned lab coat. He handed Keith a bright green hat with pointed elf ears on either side. “Put this on.”

With nothing better to do, Keith did.

They walked to the play area in pediatric wing and Keith was surprised to find it packed with people. Everyone was gathered around watching a troupe of brightly dressed actors dance and sing and joke. Keith couldn’t help a smile as he watched the children laugh and their parents pat their wet eyes at seeing their kids so happy. He looked over at Dr. Smythe, finding the old man watching him with a smile. Keith returned it. He happily settled into the crowd watching the silly show as it continued.

And suddenly the little show didn’t seem so silly. In the back, dressed like an elf and singing with another smaller actress, was Lance. Keith grinned, moving to the side through the crowd so he could get closer. It was him, covered in glitter (and favoring his injured ankle) but him nonetheless, whole and finally appearing happy after all the turmoil Keith had felt from him in the past weeks. When the show finished, Keith lingered in the open area, watching as parents and kids went through and met the actors. Keith joined the line, meeting each of Lance’s fellow cast members before finally making it to him at the end of the line. Lance looked up from where he’d been kneeling to meet the kids and his eyes went wide.

“It’s you!” he said, shooting to his feet and wobbling dangerously. Keith caught him, holding him steady with one hand on his arm and the other at his waist. Lance’s eyes twinkled, though a blush spread over his cheeks.

“Me, indeed,” Keith said with a smile. “And you, as clumsy as ever I suppose.”

Lance laughed, reaching up to adjust his elf ears. “Yeah, I guess this is a little familiar, huh,” he said, looking down at where he was still wrapped up in Keith’s arms.

“Good familiar?” Keith asked hopefully. Lance couldn’t help a smile, surprising himself as he nodded.

“Definitely,” he said quietly leaning closer to Keith. Keith suddenly wished they weren’t in public, the urge to kiss Lance becoming nearly unbearable. He stepped away with a sigh, letting his hands brush against Lance’s.

“I’m sure you should get back to the kids,” Keith sighed. Lance nodded reluctantly.

“But I'll be around afterwards if you have any time,” he said, voice tilted into a hopeful question.

“Definitely! I mean, uh, Yes. Yes. I’ll- I’ll be at the nurses station around the corner.”

“I’ll come see you.”

Keith smiled, dipping in to kiss Lance on the cheek before turning and heading around the corner, nearly running headlong into Dr. Smythe. He started to apologize but was waved off by the other man, who only gave him a knowing smile. Keith sat at one of the desks, texting Shiro excitedly that Lance was back, then explaining that he wasn’t hurt, but had come to perform for the kids. By the time he’d relayed the entire story to Shiro via text, someone was on the other side for the counter clearing their throat.

Keith jumped up, rounding the counter to gather Lance, who was leaning on one crutch.

“Should you really be on that ankle so soon?” Keith asked, tugging him to a chair. Lance shrugged, letting Keith set him up with his foot propped on a stool.

“Probably not, but what my director doesn’t know can’t hurt her. Besides, I couldn’t let down the kids on Christmas,” he said with a wink. Keith snorted a laugh.

“Very noble, but as a medical professional I can’t recommend it.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing this is our last show for the holidays.”

“Anything else special going on? Or, uh. Or with anybody?” Keith asked carefully, watching Lance’s reaction. Lance’s eyes widened before he averted them.

“Oh, uh. No. I’m actually—” he shook himself. “No one special right now. That actually, uh, screwed up my holiday plans.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” Keith managed, though inside his heart was soaring.

“Are you really?” Lance asked slyly. Keith had the decency to look guilty, though he shook his head honestly. Lance only chuckled. “Don’t worry, It was probably for the best,” he said though there was a certain sadness in his voice.

“Can… Can I ask what happened?”

Lance was quiet for a long moment, so long Keith nearly rescinded his question, before he finally said “He was hiding something important from me and I couldn’t find a way to forgive him. Which might not have been fair, because I— I understand why he did it.” Lance sighed, sparing a glance at Keith, who was trying to keep his heart from racing. Did Lance know? Nothing so far had hinted at it but maybe the thing Lotor had been hiding from him was—

“Anyways, I was supposed to fly out with him tonight to see his family in London, but I’m obviously not doing that anymore, and it’s too late for me to get a flight home.”

There was an odd silence before Keith moved past it, scooting close and asking “Where’s home?”

Lance gave him an odd, if not startled look, before a slow smile curved his lip. “Cuba. Varadero Beach: the most beautiful place in the world.” Soon, Keith had Lance talking about his huge family. It was nice just to watch his face as he talked, listening for the trace of his accent as he named cousins and uncles and talked about their family farm at Christmastime.

“What about you?” Lance asked after a bit, turning to Keith. “Any family traditions for the holidays?”’

Keith leaned back a bit at the question, shaking his head. “I never had much in the way of family and so never really _did_ Christmas. I’ll be here for an early shift that morning then probably just go home and cook some dinner.”

“Well if you’re gonna be alone on Christmas, you at least have to order Chinese food.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s like a tradition. You order Chinese food and watch your favorite Christmas movie and then fall asleep drunk on the couch.”

“Oh, uh. I never do any of that. I usually work the day after.”

“Usually?”

“I’m not this year. Shiro is on a trip with his fiance and I’m covering his shift right now. He’s taking mine the day after as thanks.”

“And no plans for any of it?”

Keith shrugged. “Catch up on some sleep I guess. Unless of course you wanted to uh, to do something?”

Lance’s eyes widened. “Christmas?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sure my cooking is nothing on your aunt’s but—”

“Yes! Uh, Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll bring cider and we can order Chinese food. What time do you get off your shift?”

“I’ll be done 11 am. Home and showered by noon.”

“So by the time I wake up, I can head your way,” Lance said with a laugh. Keith smiled.

“I’d love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else is Fuckin' Hype??? Let me know in a comment! If you want, follow me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) to watch me curate memes or yell about Voltron or support me via [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A1751V8Y) and help me write more stuff!
> 
> xoxo  
> ~Tay


	4. Make the Yuletide Gay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day late and 2k too long. i think that makes up for it.
> 
> Well my loves, we made it! this chapter is Pure Fluff (ew) and just so much schmoop ohmygod.
> 
> Only potential warnings for butt touches.
> 
> There's some butt touches.
> 
> That's honestly it.
> 
> Besos!  
> ~Tay

Even though Christmas Day came less than 48 hours after his talk with Lance, Keith managed to work himself into a veritable panic about what to do. He bought more food than they could probably eat at the grocery store because, even though he knew they were ordering Chinese food, he wanted to make a late breakfast for Lance and didn’t know what the other boy liked. Then, when he finally got his groceries into the apartment, he looked around and realized he didn’t have a single Christmas decoration in sight. 

Trying to shop for decorations at four thirty on Christmas Eve when everything closed at five was not a thing Keith would wish on his worst enemy. Nevertheless, he left the little Christmas village downtown with a tree even Charlie Brown would laugh at and an assortment of lights and ornaments courtesy of the dollar store. 

That night, he decorated for Christmas for the very first time. When he was done, he found that the apartment actually looked very cheery. He smiled to himself, finally heading to bed and sleeping well on Christmas Eve night. 

The next morning, Keith breezed through his shift, smiling at everyone and even wearing the ridiculous hat Dr. Smythe had given him. However, by the time he clocked out at eleven, nerves had settled heavy and cold in his stomach. 

Did he tell Lance today that they were soulmates? He’d broken up with Lotor, so certainly he had to have some idea, right? But how did Keith bring it up? What if Lance didn’t even want a soulmate?

Keith froze in the locker room. Lots of people weren’t actually interested in soulmates and rejected their soulbonds entirely. It was entirely possible that he was just somewhere for Lance to be on Christmas instead of by himself. But even as he thought it, it felt wrong. He could feel on the other side of their connection Lance’s excitement. Keith smiled, letting it guide him through traffic on the quick ride home from the hospital. He showered quickly, dressing in a red sweater and grey joggers before heading to the kitchen and starting to make breakfast for Lance. 

He had just set the coffee to brew when the buzzer went off. He buzzed Lance up, looking around in a flurry to make sure that he’d gotten everything together and turning on the Christmas lights before waiting impatiently by the door. Lance was barely able to finish knocking before Keith had pulled it open. 

“Merry Christmas!” Lance chirped from behind a huge scarf. He was leaning on one crutch, a full tote bag under his other shoulder. 

“Merry Christmas,” Keith said with a smile. “Come in, Come in.” He helped Lance into the warm apartment, taking his bag before helping him out of his jacket and scarf. Underneath, he was wearing a huge Christmas sweater with sparkly silver penguins. 

“My sister got it for me,” Lance explained.

“It’s nice. Very you, somehow.” Lance laughed.

“That’s what Veronica said.” Keith smiled, helping Lance sit in the kitchen to take off his snowboots. 

“Veronica's the oldest?”

“Oldest sister. Marco is oldest out of all of us.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“No, don't apologize. I honestly didn't think you'd remember.”

Keith looked from where he knelt on the floor, easing a boot off Lance’s hurt foot. 

“Well, I'm full of surprises,” he said, standing and carrying the boots to the door. He then walked back to the kitchen, sliding around the counter to where all of breakfast was finishing up. Lance pulled a small container of cider out of his tote and handed it to Keith to put in the fridge.Keith grabbed two plates and came to stand awkwardly by the elaborate spread of food he’d prepared. 

“So, uh, I didn't know what you liked to eat for breakfast so I just made a bit of everything, so there’s sausage and toast and I fried a few eggs but if you like yours another way I can make you a new one—”

“This is all lovely,” Lance said, sliding out of his chair.

“Don’t get up,” Keith chastised. “I’m serious about you staying off that foot. Just tell me what you want and I’ll fix you a plate.” 

Lance sunk back into his seat with a roll of his eyes, but guided Keith through fixing him a plate of breakfast. Soon, they were sitting side by side at the counter and eating.

“Thanks so much for doing this,” Lance said, turning to smile at Keith. “It’s really more than I could have expected.”  

Keith smiled down at his eggs. “I uh, I’ve never hosted Christmas before. I didn’t know what to do or if there was a specific ‘Christmas breakfast’— Google didn’t say anything specific, just a bunch of recipes from foofy blogs—”

“You googled Christmas breakfasts for me?” Lance asked, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Keith blushed, looking over at him. “I guess that’s a little ridiculous, isn’t it?”

Lance giggled. “Maybe a little bit,” he said with a smile. “But I think that’s what Christmas is for: being a little ridiculous.” Keith returned his smile.

“Well, if the Christmas expert says so then I guess I’m doing fine.”

“So I’m an expert now?”

“Given the room? Absolutely.” Lance preened, wiggling in his seat.

“Alright then. Do you have plans for what comes next? Or does the Christmas expert get to decide?”

“Um, I have a few board games and a deck of cards, as well as cable for Christmas movies— I’m sorry, I don’t— I didn’t plan this well. I guess I sorta thought that Christmas would do itself?”

“Wow, this is really new to you, huh?”

Keith nodded. “I never really had folks to celebrate with, so I usually either just worked or slept through Christmas. There was never really anything for me to do with the day.”

“Well we’re just gonna have to fix that aren’t we?” Lance said, sliding off his stool. He hobbled towards the coat rack by the door and Keith vaulted off his stool to catch up with him, hands catching Lance’s hips as the other boy reached for his scarf. Lance startled, turning in his arms as Keith leaned in to ask where he was heading. Lance’s shoulder bumped into Keith’s chest, pushing him back enough that they didn’t knock heads, but positioning them exceptionally close together. Keith could have counted every freckle on Lance’s face had he not been so entranced with those eyes, wide in shock, yet still twinkling with mirth.

“Grab my crutch for me?” Lance said.

“Why? Where are you going?”

“I passed a little grocery store on the drive here that looked open. We’re gonna go get a few Christmas treats.”

“I have food here,” Keith insisted, trying and failing to tug Lance back to his seat. 

“You have sugar cookie dough? And a can of cinnamon rolls? And eggnog and bread and cinnamon sugar?”

“I uh, I have bread and I think I have cinnamon?”

“Then we need to go.”

“Lance, it’s icy out there—”

“Are you the Christmas expert?” Keith only gaped at him, surprised to find the other boy so bratty and ridiculous and even more surprised at himself for adoring it.

“I guess not,” Keith said with a sigh, releasing Lance to grab his outerwear and shrugging into his own. He laced up his own boots then dropped to the ground, kneeling and helping Lance with his own.

“This is very gallant and all but I really can do them myself.”

“Humor me,” Keith said easily lacing one boot tight before grabbing the next and carefully easing Lance’s injured foot into it. When he was done, he stood, tugging Lance’s beanie down over his eyes and booping his nose. “Ready,” he said with a smile as Lance spluttered. He pushed his hat back up, giving Keith an incredulous look. Keith only smiled at him, handing him his crutch and opening the door. 

As they ventured out into the snow-cloaked city, Keith's hands lingered on Lance. He told himself it was nothing— he was just a concerned medical professional trying to keep a friend steady as they traversed the snowy sidewalks— but every time he pulled his hands away he found them gravitating back: a hand at Lance's elbow to steady him, one at the small of his back to guide him around a patch of ice, or taking Lance’s hand to tug him to his side. 

Lance said nothing, simply giving Keith small smiles and rolls of his eyes with each little brush. 

“So are you this protective of your other dates?” Lance asked as Keith opened the door to the grocery store and helped Lance through it. Keith fought not to grin as Lance referred to himself as his date, instead sidling closer and grabbing a basket.

“I didn’t have proof of my other dates walking on an injury against medical advice.”

“And if you had?” Lance asked cheekily. Keith looked at him out the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know. There may just be something special about you,” he said easily. Whatever answer Lance had been expecting, this wasn’t it, and his pleased shock showed clearly on his face, a blush darkening the red on his cold cheeks. Keith only smiled, taking Lance’s hand and drawing them into the store.

Lance pressed close to Keith’s side, leaning on him as they meandered the halls of the grocery store, Lance grabbing odd things for their little basket as they went along.

“What exactly  _ is _ eggnog?” Keith asked, watching warily as Lance grabbed a quart of the mysterious yet festive beverage. 

“You can't really explain it.”

“What?”

“I mean you can, but I've never heard an explanation of eggnog that like, endears another person to the beverage,” Lance said, tugging Keith's hand to pull him in step as they hobbled along. Keith left it at that, letting Lance lead them from the refrigerator section down to the seasonings and eventually—

“The liquor section?”

“We grabbed eggnog Keith, we can’t just drink that shit straight.”

“Lance, what’s in eggnog?”

“Do you have a rum preference?”

“What— No. I don’t care—”

“Ok. We’ll get a West Indian one. Those are the best.”

“That doesn’t answer my question—”

“The best thing in eggnog is whatever liquor you have on hand, Keith.” 

“Do you even like eggnog?” Keith asked, taking the bottle of dark rum from Lance and slipping it into the basket. Lance only giggled and, as much as one could with a busted ankle, flounced away. 

They did the self checkout, hands brushing together as they loaded up Lance’s hodge podge of festive groceries. Keith took the bags in one hand and Lance’s in the other and they slowly walked through a sudden yet unsurprising Christmas snowfall back to Keith’s apartment. Taking their time made the whole thing seem colder, though that proved an opportunity in its own. Keith slowed his pace, all but aligning their bodies as they walked and tucking their cold, conjoined hands into one of his pockets. Even when they were safe and warm in the elevator up to his floor, they stayed leaned together, Lance blushing and looking back and forth between their reflection in the mirrored doors and Keith at his side. 

Keith’s eyes were on Lance, watching the snowflakes caught in his lashes slowly melt in the warm air.

The next hour they were inseparable, drawn to each other as magnetically as that first meeting (and every one after that) as they shuffled around the kitchen. Keith humored Lance as he insisted on helping to put away the few groceries before sitting him on the counter and taking instructions as Lance led him through getting the cinnamon rolls into the oven and putting the small container of cider he’d brought on the stove with some mulling spices. Finally, Lance called Keith over, reaching into the cabinet above him and grabbing a cup as Keith came to stand in front of him at the counter, letting his hands trail along the seams on the side of Lance’s jeans.

“It’s time,” Lance said dramatically, grabbing and opening the bottle of dark rum and wiggling the glass. Keith laughed. “Do you wanna try it with or without alcohol first.”

“I thought the alcohol was the best part?” Keith said wordlessly stepping to the fridge for the container of eggnog. 

“You're right. Then we have to save the best for last.” Lance said, grabbing another glass and taking the eggnog from Keith. He poured them each a half a cup. “Together then,” Lance asked, leaning towards Keith until their noses nearly touched. 

“Bottoms up, doc.” Lance said, tapping Keith’s glass and bringing his own to his lips. He watched carefully over the glass he pretended to drink from as Keith tasted, eyebrows drawing together and glass slowly lowering. He moved his mouth curiously, tongue poking out of his lips just a moment as he stared into his cup, one eyebrow lifting. 

“What did I just—”

“That’s eggnog,” Lance said, grinning slightly. 

“It’s terrible.”

“Mhmm.” Lance nodded giddily, biting his lower lip to keep from laughing at Keith’s flabbergasted face.

“So why—”

“Put some rum in it.” Keith did, taking the dark liquor and pouring a hefty shot into the remains of his eggnog. He swirled it together then drank, if possible, grimacing even harder the second time around. Lance cackled, accepting the glass when Keith shoved it at him and downing the rest with a retch of his own. By the time he was done, Keith was drinking from a tall glass of water, which he pushed at Lance, who drank greedily. Keith only watched as Lance finished the water and turned to him with a smile.

Keith leaned forwards, situating himself between Lance’s knees. He took the empty cup from Lance’s hand, setting it on the counter before replacing it with his own, and let his other hand rest against Lance’s thigh, fingers returning to the seams on his pants. 

“So tell me why we bought eggnog if you knew it was disgusting?”

“Eggnog is a holiday tradition!” Lance said happily, squeezing Keith's hand and giving him a smile. “Doesn’t mean it’s any good.”

“Well what do we do with the rest of it?” Keith asked, lifting the bottle that was still mostly full.

“We make french toast!” Lance crowed, kicking his feet back and forth. 

“To go with the other sweet carb of the cinnamon rolls?”

“It’s Christmas, Keith. We don’t eat for health, we eat for happiness.”

Keith opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, shaking his head before turning and pulling out a frying pan and a bowl.

“Alright, talk me through this french toast.”

Another twenty minutes, and they were on the couch in the living room, Keith having propped Lance’s foot up on a pillow by the coffee table. He buzzed back and forth, bringing their spread of Christmas goodies and some reheated sausages from breakfast over and spreading them out on the table. Lance flipped through channels on the tv, chattering idly about all of their options. 

“What's your favorite Christmas movie?” Lance asked as Keith finally stopped fussing and joined him on the couch. Whatever subtlety he’d tried for when scooting closer to Keith was entirely unnecessary, as the other boy looped his arm around his waist and pulled Lance flush against his side. Lance smiled as Keith’s hand landed just above his hip. He leaned into the other boy, leaning his head on his shoulder. 

“So,” he started again. “Favorite Christmas movie?”

“You know I’m not that Christmassy,” Keith said, reaching forwards and grabbing a cinnamon roll. Lance settled on a channel where a blond woman was yelling for a little boy named Ralphie.

“Yeah, but you don’t really celebrate it, so I’m assuming you spend the day in front of the tv, channel surfing.”

“I guess that’s fair. I usually either work or sleep the whole day, though.”

“Then why were you only working the morning this year?” Lance asked, looking up through his lashes at Keith. The other boy opened his mouth then closed it, head tilting suddenly. 

Why  _ had _ he taken most of today off? It didn’t make sense considering how he usually scheduled his time around the holidays. He usually jumped at the chance for extra hours (anything to keep him out of his empty apartment or help him save up); but when he’d made his schedule he’d skipped over a second shift for the day. It just hadn’t felt right.

“I guess I- I had a good feeling about today.”

“And that made you switch it up? A good feeling?”

Keith smiled slowly, turning to look at him. Lance was gazing up at him. Maybe it was the Christmas lights around the room, but Keith swore his blue eyes were twinkling. He sat up, shifting Lance with him and turned to face the other boy.

“Keith?” Lance asked quietly, eyes roving Keith’s face before landing on his lips. Keith barely resisted smiling, lifting one hand to cup Lance’s cheek. He leaned forwards slowly, heart racing as his eyes fluttered closed. He hesitantly brushed his lips against Lance’s, relishing the little mew he got for just a second before he realized Lance was fidgeting. He started to draw back, panic welling in his chest before Lance closed the new distance with gusto, working his hands out from between them to wrap them around Keith. 

He leaned into Keith, hands gripping his biceps. Lance’s tongue slid against the seam of Keith's lips and Keith opened to him immediately, tangling his tongue with Lance’s. He pushed into Lance’s mouth, the hand on his cheek sliding to cup the back of his neck, tugging him impossibly closer. His other hand, fell to Lance’s hip, one finger hooking through a belt loop simply to keep himself grounded. Lance hummed against his lips, shifting his hips in a way that had Keith squeezing one comfortingly. He nibbled Lance’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and soothing it with his tongue before he kissed down his chin and along Lance’s jaw. Lance gasped, hands sliding up to grip Keith’s shoulders. He shivered against him, fingers slipping up into Keith’s hair. Keith sighed against Lance’s neck, doubling down on that spot and feeling Lance nod. He slid his hand to the small of Lance’s back, tugging him close before let it slowly drift lower—

“Ah, wait—” Lance said turning slightly away.

“Sorry! Sorry—” Keith said, pulling back, only for Lance to hold him in place. 

“I just gotta—” He shifted awkwardly, easing his leg from where his ankle was elevated on the table. He knelt on the couch, leaning into Keith. “There we go,” he said, hands threading through Keith’s hair.

He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to Keith’s and licking into his mouth. Keith gripped his waist, smoothing his hands up and down Lance’s sides, squeezing gently before sliding them down to his hips. He tugged Lance into his lap, smiling when the other boy went willingly, shifting to straddle his thighs. Keith’s hands slid down to Lance’s rear, pulling him until they were pressed perfectly together, hardly an inch between them. 

Lance wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulders, reaching and tangling one hand in Keith’s hair, letting the other grip his shirt. He smiled into the kiss, feeling Keith’s lips twitch against his as he returned the smile. They kissed gently for long easy minutes, Lance’s fingers combing through Keith’s hair and Keith’s hands slipping under Lance’s sweater, fingers tracing along the small of his back. Lance arched into the contact, smiling when Keith responded by doubling down, stroking his hands firmly up and down Lance’s back.

Lance kissed along Keith’s jaw, moving down to bite along his neck and relishing the sharp gasp it got him and the way Keith’s fingers flexed against his shoulder blades, tugging Lance forwards against his chest. Lance continued biting down his neck and Keith sighed his name, running his hands up and down Lance’s back, forgetting himself entirely and— 

Lance gasped, fingers going bruisingly tight against Keith’s shoulder and hand tugging harshly on his hair as fire spiked against his back. He shook, mind filling with warmth even as he felt like he’d just taken a huge gulp of freezing air—

And then everything settled. It was just warm and  _ easy _ . He felt inexplicably safe, nothing in his life having felt better than Keith’s arms. The very thought made him gasp. He realized that Keith was also frozen against him, breaths shallow against Lance’s neck. Lance slowly pulled back, sitting up in his lap and looking down at Keith. Where Lance’s eyes were wide with wonder, Keith’s were wide with fear. 

“Oh my god,” Lance whispered.

“Lance, I—”

“Oh my god!” Lance repeated, Keith falling silent and just watching as Lance’s emotions flickered across his face and through their bond. Keith felt confusion and joy and that same flicker of fear. It was oddly comforting to feel Lance’s same wariness echoed back at him, though he worried nonetheless. Feeling daring, he shifted his hand, laying his palm flat against Lance’s back, thinking carefully of the mark he’d dreamed about since seeing it at the hospital and laying his hand perfectly over it. Lance gave him a slow, watery smile, hands coming to lay on either side of his neck.

“It’s you! You’re my—  _ we’re _ — Oh my go—”

Keith cut him off with a kiss, pulling Lance into a tight hug and taking a shuddering breath. Lance clutched at him, fingers clenching in Keith’s sweatshirt. They separated to breathe, though Keith barely managed a gasp before Lance was pulling him in for another quick kiss. 

“Where’s mine? Can I— I wanna see it,” Lance said, tugging at Keith’s shirt.

“Trying to get me out of my clothes?” Keith joked, though his voice could barely support it. Lance leaned in and kissed him again, brushing shaking fingers against Keith’s cheeks for just a second before pulling out of the kiss and trailing his hands down Keith's chest and stomach. He gathered the hem of Keith’s shirt in his hands, tugging gently as his eyes met the other boy’s, the deep blue echoing his shaking hands’ hesitant question. 

Keith nodded, reluctantly pulling his hand from Lance’s soulmark to help the other boy remove his shirt. His sweatshirt was cast on the ground, entirely forgotten as Lance’s hands landed on Keith’s now bare shoulders. He gazed down at Keith’s chest, mouth agape, though his lips twitched into an incredulous smile. 

“Touch it,” Keith whispered, voice quiet in the suddenly still room. Even the noise of the tv in the background seemed to disappear as Lance nodded, though he remained frozen on Keith’s lap. Keith reached up, one hand slipping around Lance’s wrist and guiding his hand down. Lance’s fingers traced over Keith’s collarbone and down to his left pectoral right over his  heart. But before his fingertips made contact with the mark, he closed his hand, looking back up to meet Keith’s eyes.

“You knew. When did you—”

“That first day, right after the coffeeshop.” Keith said, pulling Lance’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “I went to change for work and Shiro saw the mark. I ran back, but you were gone already.”

“But then, you knew and you didn’t say anything. You saw me with Lotor, and you- you didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me,” Keith confessed. “You were in a relationship and you didn’t— you never came back to the coffeeshop and you barely even recognized me at the hospital, so you hadn’t been thinking about me and- and I didn’t want to pressure you out of a relationship for a maybe with me—” 

“Keith,” Lance said, leaning down to kiss him yet again. He slid his hand over Keith’s chest. “You aren’t a maybe. You’re my  _ soulmate _ .”

He pressed his fingertips to Keith's mark, reopening their bond as he kissed him again. Keith gasped against Lance’s mouth, arms locking tight around him. Keith slid his hand beneath Lance’s sweater, sliding it up to his own mark on Lance’s skin. With both of them touching their marks, the bond was, as the movies would say, complete. They both smiled, teeth clicking together as they continued the surprisingly wet kiss.

“You’re crying,” Keith said, pulling away, Lance furrowed his brow, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, which was indeed wet with tears. He gave a breathless laugh, looking down at Keith before touching his cheek as well. He wiped beneath Keith’s eye.

“So are you,” Lance said, showing Keith the moisture on his thumb. Keith only smiled, shaking his head and pulling Lance in for a tight hug. He rested his head on Lance’s chest, nuzzling his cheek against the soft sweater. Lance hugged him back, running the fingers of one hand through Keith’s hair as Keith’s calloused fingers teased along his back, ghosting over his soulmark with every pass. Lance shivered in Keith’s arms with every touch, squirming in his lap until the other boy finally pressed his hand against the mark fully, wrapping Lance in the warmth of their bond.

Lance’s breath hitched and he took a ragged breath. Keith tugged out of the hug, cupping Lance’s face with a hand and thumbing away his tears while the other stayed firmly over the mark.

“Hey,” Keith said, smoothing a lock of Lance’s hair behind his ear. “Can you look at me?” he asked. Lance shook his head, wiping at his closed eyes with the backs of his hands. “Can you tell me?” Keith asked. Lance took one shuddering breath and then another before finally answering.

“It’s just funny— well not funny but, definitely something— how two people could keep the same secret from me for such different reasons. Lotor kept this a secret to take away my choice. You-you kept it a secret to give me one.”

Keith pulled Lance back into a hug, scooting down the couch and leaning back until they were laying down, Lance’s head pillowed on his chest and their legs tangled together. Lance kept one hand in Keith’s hair, the other laying against Keith’s waist. Slowly, the latter hand crept up Keith’s torso to his pectoral. Lance curled his fingers in and lay his hand inside the mark on Keith’s chest. Keith sighed happily, relaxing into the cushions and wrapping an arm more firmly around Lance. The other hand, predictably, stayed put.

He couldn’t tell you how long they laid together simply touching their marks and occasionally kissing or dozing off, but, when Keith next looked around the room, the sun had set, leaving them bathed in the multicolored Christmas lights. He felt Lance shift on his chest and looked down to where the other boy was gazing at him.

“Hi,” Lance said, smiling up at him.

Hi,” Keith returned, leaning up on his elbows so he could kiss the other boy it was long and easy, tips of their tongues teasing one another as whatever was on tv kept right on humming. Keith nibbled on Lance’s lower lip just enough to make him squirm before pulling away. Lance’s eyes slowly reopened and he looked through his lashes up at Keith. He pressed his hands into the couch and slowly sat up, crawling over Keith to straddle him again, settling his weight firmly over the other boys hips and walking nimble fingers up his bare chest. 

“You know what time it is now?” Lance asked, voice like honey in Keith’s ears. Keith gulped, looking up at the other boy. At some point during their cuddling, Lance had complained about his uncomfortable jeans and shucked them, pulling a blanket over their legs and Keith had thought nothing of it. But now, with all that bare thigh on display and only Lance’s Christmas sweater blocking the other boy’s underwear from view, he was hyper aware of the jeans lying a yard away on the floor. 

“Gonna answer my question?” Lance asked, tilting Keith’s head up with a finger so he could see him biting his lip in an attempt to smother a smirk. Keith blinked up at him dumbly.

“N-no, uh. What—” a dry swallow— “What time is it?”

Lance grinned, wiggling his hips over Keith’s before pressing both hands on Keith’s lower abdomen. He slowly pushed forwards, hands sliding up Keith's abs to his collarbones, nails scratching at random spots along the path. Lance leaned in close, breath fanning against Keith’s neck as his lips ghosted against his ear. Keith’s hands gravitated on insticint to Lance’s hips, gripping them for dear life as the other boy began to whisper—

“Time for Chinese food.”

Keith stiffened beneath him, jaw clenching and fingers tightening on Lance’s hips as he registered what Lance had said and heard the other boy slowly devolved into giggles against his neck.

“Well alright then,” Keith choked, looking blankly at the ceiling as he tried to get himself under control. “Chinese food.”

 

They finished the evening on the floor, backs against the couch and legs tangled beneath a blanket as Lance explaining to Keith how, even though  _ Home Alone 2 _ was the best of the series, it would be nothing without the “beautiful foundation” of  _ Home Alone _ . 

“So what’s your favorite Christmas movie?” Keith finally asked, grabbing the box of beef lo mein and plunging his chopsticks into it. “I feel like you’ve given me the rundown on every Christmas movie imaginable—”

“Oh my god, Keith. We’ve barely started. We Haven’t talked about the classics or even  _ The Holiday—” _

_ “ _ Which keeps me farther and farther from knowing which one’s your favorite. That’s the one that matters.”

Lance quieted, turning to Keith with a blush and leaning against his shoulder. He tilted the box of lo mein so he could twirl his fork in it.

“I guess I usually say  _ Elf. _ It makes me laugh,” he said with a shrug, claiming his forkful of noodles. Keith handed the noodle container to Lance, smiling when the other boy took it eagerly, and wrapped his arm around his waist. He fit the other beneath Lance’s thighs and pulled him into his lap, holding him close. Lance giggled, rolling his eyes as Keith nuzzled against his neck. He leaned his back against Keith’s chest, letting the other boy wrap his hands around his waist.

“So  _ Elf _ ?” Lance asked, reaching for the remote. 

“Well,” Keith said, snagging Lance’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “You said you  _ usually  _ say  _ Elf _ which sounds to me like it isn't actually your favorite one.” 

“Oh, uh— I misspoke—”

“C’mon,” Keith all but purred, pushing at Lance's sleeve to kiss along his forearm. Lance pulled his arm away with a giggle, swatting back at Keith. 

“You realize you're very touchy, yeah?” Lance said, turning in Keith’s lap and laying a hand on his collarbone, tangling it in the collar of Keith’s sweatshirt and tugging him into a kiss. Keith kissed him hotly, one hand sliding down Lance’s back to rest on his rear, the other cupping the side of Lance’s neck, holding him in place. He pulled slowly away, thumb caressing Lance’s neck and lips brushing against Lance’s as he let the other boy flip in his lap entirely, hands planting on either side of Keith’s hips as he arched his back and leaned against the other boy, pressing Keith back into the couch.

“You’re very flexible, huh?” Keith asked, lips brushing Lance’s with every word as his  hands traveled down the elegant arch of Lance’s back.

“I do a lot of yoga,” Lance whispered, kicking his uninjured leg up into a pose. Keith chuckled, even as he slid his hands back to Lance’s ass, loving the feel of it in his hands. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he said with a smile, leaning in and giving Lance a quick peck.

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” Lance said, kissing Keith quickly again before flipping back around and laying in his lap.

“Lucky me,” Keith said, wrapping an arm around Lance’s waist as the other boy grabbed the remote, pressing play on the television and tugging the blanket up around them. He reached back for Keith’s hand. Keith threaded his fingers between Lance’s, laying their conjoined hands on Lance’s belly. They cozied down, settling in as Lance pressed play. 

Keith picked up the remote during the first commercial break, skipping over the commercials and tugging them into laying on the floor, he spooned behind Lance, watching the rest of the albeit delightful movie with his nose in Lance’s hair. They forgot to skip the rest of the commercials, as each break found Lance turning in his arms for kisses and questions about if he was enjoying the movie. When it ended, Lance rolled half on top of Keith, slotting a thigh between his legs and pillowing his head on his chest.

“But you really liked it?” he asked, wiggling excitedly on Keith’s chest. Keith nodded, slipping a hand under the back of Lance’s sweater to rest at the small of his back. 

“More than I expected to,” Keith confessed, smiling as Lance’s grin grew impossibly wider. 

“Good,” Lance said, laying his head on Keith’s chest. “It’s a favorite at home. I watch it with my nieces nephews to keep them out of trouble on Christmas Eve while my mom and sister wrap all the presents. They love it every time. We probably know all the words by now.”

“You definitely do,” Keith said with a chuckle. “I could hear you whispering the lines under your breath.”

“Sorry, I thought I was being quiet.”

“I might have been paying extra close attention,” Keith murmured, rubbing his hand from one of Lance’s hips to the other. Lance hummed contentedly, relaxing against him. “Speaking of paying attention…”

“Hm?”

“What’s actually you’re favorite Christmas movie? Like just your favorite. The one you can’t get through the holidays without watching?”

Lance sighed, folding his hands on Keith’s pecs and resting his chin on them.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

Lance shrugged. “The last person I told did. So you can’t.”

“Fair enough,” Keith said, moving a hand to stroke up and down Lance’s arm. The other boy hesitated, biting his lower lip for just a moment before saying.

“Love Actually.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s my favorite Christmas movie.  _ Love Actually _ . I watch it all the time, even when it isn’t near Christmas.”

“Oh.” Keith said, looking at the ceiling and furrowing his brow. “I, uh… I don’t think I know that one.”

When he looked back at Lance, he found an expression of outraged disbelief.

“Oh, I know what we’re doing next,” Lance said with a grin. Keith returned his ridiculous smile, sliding a hand around the back of Lance’s neck and tugging him into a kiss.

“You really like doing that,” Lance said dreamily when they finally separated.

“I do,” Keith said quietly.

“I do too,” Lance said, leaning back in. He stopped. “But none of this during the movie. You have to pay attention to every little mome—”

Keith quieted him with a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd y'all think? If i get enough love i'll write an epilogue (by which i mean i think I've planned an epilogue. oops) 
> 
> Scream at me! What was your favorite moment? What was the most ridiculous one? Let me know in a comment or visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) to watch me curate memes or yell about Klance!! Also think about supporting me and all this fic via [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A1751V8Y)!

**Author's Note:**

> I promise it gets more festive. Where do you think we're going? what's your favorite part? Are you ready to yell at me yet? Let me know in a comment or visit me on [tumblr](https://profoundprincessface.tumblr.com/) to watch me collect memes and mourn vine. also, consider sharing some holiday cheer and funding my fic habit via [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A1751V8Y)
> 
> til tomorrow!  
> ~Tay


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